Overwatch: World Tour
by The Strike Commander
Summary: Hana Song has the burden of an entire country on her shoulders. As the world is thrust into a new chaotic era, she struggles to maintain hope in the face of unbearable failure.
1. The Starlet on Stage

Mac Joulwan sifted through his text covered papers pretending he was refreshing his mind in front of his attentive audience. Keeping an increasingly distracted generation of young people glued to late night television was no easy feat, but Mac had survived for decades on the husks of war heroes turned celebrities. He had a knack for turning even the most grizzled fighter into a passionate teen heart throb. Mac remembered the first time a veteran had appeared on his show. The year was 2056, and the Omnic Crisis was finally closing out. Although few could predict the social issues which would stem from the end of the Crisis, people were relieved, jubilant even, and more importantly, they were looking for someone to thank. Two dozen phone calls later and a fistful of UN and Overwatch employees ticked off, and a boisterous Reinhardt Wilhelm was eager to chat with Mac about the end of the war. Such a hulking yet humble man couldn't have been easier to sell to the public. The worldwide fan response was so overwhelmingly positive other Overwatch agents couldn't be kept off Mac's stage no matter what a disgruntled Commander Morrison said. Those were thrilling days. Mac's popularity skyrocketed along with Overwatch. So when the media started crying that a second Omnic Crisis was throttling up, Mac couldn't have been happier. Now the next generation war heroes were young, hot, and already celebrities!

Mac's golden brown eyes caught the stage lights as he looked to his awaiting patrons. Tonight was a big night. The fashion police were there in force, fangirls and fanboys alike could barely contain themselves, and even the older generations carefully watched to see what kind of hero their children were relying upon. This would be Miss Hana Song's first appearance on Mac's late night show. Everyone and their robot mother had tuned in to see this little lady swoon the crowds.

With a flash of his pearly teeth and an affluent gleam in his eye that King Solomon would have envied, Mac rose from his chair. The audience might have ripped the upholstering from the seats had he not promptly spoke. "Tonight, I have a very special guest who needs no introduction…" Mac could have sworn that his audience had left through an airlock. "I'm sure we're all very familiar with her by now. Please help me in welcoming… Hana Song!"

If his stage was a battlefield, Mac would have ducked for cover. The roar of applause from the audience as the legendary DVa appeared on stage left a palpable shockwave. Mac looked to his left, still beaming. Miss Song was wearing a gown that would have made her look like a Disney princess were it not for the neon light trails which intensified as the dress pinched at her hips and led up to her neck line. Whoever was controlling Hana's wardrobe was truly making something for the fashionistas to ogle. The shining Korean super star smiled timidly at the adoring crowd. Of course, everyone had to look at her hair once they had encapsulated the beauty of her face. A single, long braid trailed over her head and down her cheeks. The intricate braiding was complemented by a flowering bun at the back of her head. Truthfully, it was impossible to get any sort of indication of the audience's reaction to these stylish elements; they were way too hyped!

Hana excitedly shook Mac's extended hand as they exchanged some unheard pleasantries. In the disorienting hullabaloo, Mac gently directed Miss Song to her seat, and they both sat down, eager to start a conversation. The audience however, wasn't quite ready and continued their clamor. In the brief respite, Mac gave DVa a good look over. If he were twenty years younger, she would've been a real bombshell. He thought it a bit unscrupulous to make a nineteen-year-old, military girl the world's most renowned sex symbol, but he had seen worse. Finally, Mac turned to the crowd, put on his serious face, and motioned for them to be quiet.

As he returned his gaze to Hana, Mac smiled gently and rubbed his chin. He chuckled softly before saying, "So, you're finally here."

Hana smiled. "I am," she said receiving a few hoots from the crowd.

Mac folded his hands and leaned back in his chair. "I was talking with you backstage, and I realized we actually meant to have you on the show sooner."

"That's right," Hana said in agreement, "I guess going undefeated for three years catches some attention."

Mac laughed. "So, DVa the StarCraft champion…" Mac cautiously glanced to his side. "Ya know, StarCraft was created before I was even born," he said in a deceptively low voice.

Miss Song giggled. "Seems like it holds up a little better than you do," she said confidently.

Mac placed a hand on his desk and the other on his heart as if he were offended. He looked to the audience in shock. The fans laughed and hollered; they were in love. "I see your knack for witty remarks has not been exaggerated," he said, recomposing himself. Hana had a sly smile ready for him. "But you know," Mac continued, "I'm actually glad you're visit was delayed."

"Oh?" DVa said, perking up, "Why's that?"

"Well," Mac said, "Now I not only get to interview a gaming popstar, but a war hero too." DVa blushed slightly, and the crowd cheered. "And you know this show has a long history of having war heroes as guests."

"Oh, yes," Hana said as she tugged at the hem of her dress, "My agents wouldn't stop reminding me on the drive over."

"It's not very often I get to interview a participant in an ongoing conflict," Mac said, softening his tone, "If you don't mind my asking, could you tell us a little about what's going on in Korea?"

"Of course," DVa said. She swallowed. "As you've probably heard, last year MEKA lost control of its drone-control network during an attack by the colossal omnic from the sea." Mac nodded. "I remember getting a call shortly thereafter, and I was flown out for MEKA training the next day. I think the whole MEKA unit was assembled and trained within the span of 72 hours."

"Wow, that's quite a feat," Mac replied.

"Mhmm, it is," Miss Song said.

"I wonder," Mac continued, "You're here, so the defense operation must have been successful." He tilted his head.

Hana put on a proud smirk. "Well, the omnic is back in the sea, but the fight's not over."

"Ah, that's right," he said, realization coming into his face, "I hear you're touring around the world looking for new talent to help MEKA take the fight to this undersea threat."

"Yes, I am," Hana replied, "MEKA needs bright minds and brave people. The drones we use were never designed to go underwater, but we can't let the omnics have that safehold any longer."

"Well, that's awesome," Mac said with a smile, "Really glad to have you on the show today!" He turned to the camera. "We'll have lots more from DVa when we come back! Don't go anywhere!" He pointed at the audience as the camera cut away, and the channel went to commercial.

Hana leaned over to Mac. "It's feels really good to be back in America… and not for a gaming tournament."

"Ah, I know what you mean," Mac said, "I went to Europe recently with my family, and it's nothing like it was before the Crisis. We've been really lucky here."

"Speaking of family," Hana added, "I believe I met your daughter backstage. She is the most precious thing I have ever seen."

Mac chuckled. "Yes, she adores you. If you asked her back to Korea with you, I don't think I could stop her."

DVa laughed. "Careful, I might just do that."

"Ay, Mac," a voice called out from camera side, "One minute 'till we're live."

Mac nodded. "My producer keeps telling me I shouldn't talk about war or ex-Overwatch agents. He thinks that I'm going to piss off some group of activists, but every time I do talk about those things, the ratings get a boost."

"I get the same kind of attitude," Hana said, "People don't think a nineteen-year-old should be on the front lines."

"Hey," Mac quietly said, "When we go back on, I'm going to ask a few questions about Overwatch. Is that alright with you?"

"Oh, of course," Hana happily replied.

"Alright," Mac said, a big smile overtaking his face. Just a moment more passed before the camera men were waving their fingers. Lights flickered, and the audience began applauding on que. Once more the camera swung around and focused on Mac and his guest. "Welcome back!" he said with obvious joy, "I'm here with our guest, DVa." He turned to Hana.

"Hi!" she chirped.

"We were just talking about my daughter," Mac said, "Huge fan of yours."

"Mhmm, I could tell," Hana replied with a smile.

"Actually…" Mac got a mischievous grin on his face. "I probably shouldn't do this, but… let me tell you a secret."

"Oh," Hana said, "Ok."

"I remember a few weeks ago my daughter came to me in a fuss," Mac said. Miss Song gave him a reprimanding look. "Now, don't worry," he said, "Embarrassing my daughter on public television is the norm for me."

Hana giggled. "Okay," she said, waving it off.

"Anyways," Mac continued, "She came to me, and I asked her, I said, 'What's wrong?' Well, she says, 'Oh, dad, it's just too awful!'" Mac imitated his daughter in a very prim and proper voice. "And I asked again, 'What sweetheart?' You won't believe her response." Hana nodded, listening intently. "Then she said, 'DVa said Lúcio and her are just friends.'" Mac laughed, and the audience did too. Hana also laughed. Observing her, Mac saw that DVa's makeup artist was using just enough blush to catch the light. "I think she really likes the idea of the two of you together."

DVa cooed. "Well, he's a little bit older than I am so…"

"We'll see?" Mac asked.

"Yes," Hana replied, "We'll see."

Mac nodded and moved on. "Ya know, I wanted to ask you… I mentioned that I like to have war heroes on the show. You're no exception to that, but what do you make of these rumors that Overwatch is coming back together."

Hana paused for a moment like she was unsure if she should say anything. "I think it's great," she huffed with passion, "that people are so committed to protecting others that they won't let anything stop them."

"I agree," Mac said wholeheartedly, "But I almost wonder if there's a hidden agenda to these rumors."

Hana gave him a curious glance. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I hear about ex-Overwatch agents doing good all the time. What's the point of reorganizing if it's just going to brand these heroes as criminals? Part of me thinks the rumors could be targeted in order to remove some of these ex-agents from play."

"Well, then somebody'd better make Overwatch legal again," DVa said. The audience gave a hearty round of applause.

"That's a pretty bold statement," Mac replied. He rested his head on his hands. "They really weren't kidding about your intense personality."

Hana nodded respectfully. "Aww, thanks."

Mac grabbed his papers. "I'm not entirely sure that was a compliment."

Miss Song smirked. "I'll take it."

Mac laughed. "Well, it's been great having you on the show today, DVa!" Mac raised his voice over the increasingly noisy crowd. He once again shook Hana's hand.

"It's been my pleasure," she replied.

"Don't go away. I'll be right back with a special guest here to unveil his new film. That's right, you know who I'm talking about! It's gonna be a great night, so stay tuned." The audience cheered and hooted as the camera faded out.

Hana nestled into the satin cushions of her seat as she nibbled on some trashy American tacos. The blessed mixture of saturated fat and body-hugging upholstery had Miss Song nearly comatose. She would have forgotten where she was were it not for the gentle whirring of the helicopter's blades overhead. Even during her express training in the Korean military, she had never been treated with such luxury. All the formality and routines were getting to her; she wanted her personality to guide this assignment. Her unstoppable attitude would be the deciding factor in recruiting help for MEKA. Hana reached back and pulled a pin from her hair, letting her bun loose.

A smooth, male voice sounded over the coms. "Everything alright back there, Miss Song?"

"Mmmm," DVa slowly replied, wiping a dab of grease from her lips, "Everything's great."

"Good," the pilot replied, "Shouldn't be much longer. I know General Howard is awaiting your arrival. He's been..." Suddenly, the man's voice was cut off. DVa heard another sound echoing quietly in the background like another transmission was coming through. "Uh… sorry, Miss Song, looks like we're being rerouted. This might take a bit more time than expected."

Hana put down her food and sighed. "How much longer?" she asked expectantly.

"Um…" There was a peculiar moment of silence, grabbing Hana's attention. "Holy hell, what is that?" the pilot cried.

DVa turned to the window to see blood red lasers starkly contrasting the black night sky. As Hana gazed at the mesmerizing light show, one beam tilted towards the helicopter. She didn't need to take a second look to know what would happen next. DVa tucked her feet in just before the laser tore through the cabin, splaying through her tacos. Shredded lettuce and greasy chunks of meat sizzled and glowed and burst into flames as they were flung into the air. Hana felt the heat of the destructive weapon on her skin, and she caught the sterile scent of melted plastic and metal. Although the laser had penetrated the cabin, the helicopter was still in one piece. Hana then heard the pilot yell from the cockpit.

"Engines offline! Mayday! Mayday! This is blackbird four reporting a complete system failure! We're going to crash! Eh, strap yourself in Miss Song!"

DVa grabbed the emergency belt and prepared for the most intense spike of adrenaline she had ever experienced in her short, nineteen-year life. Her hair stood on end; she had never felt this close to death, even during the Korean defense campaign. The helicopter wobbled and sputtered. The once sound-reduced cabin now resounded with howling wind and scraping metal. Hana briefly had a sense of plummeting and shut her eyes. Surprisingly enough, she barely felt the drop or the impact.

When Hana came to, there was a painful throbbing in her ears. As she regained awareness, she felt water rippling over her face. She retracted from the wet sensation before any fluids got into her nose, and her hands pressed deeply into the goopy sand underneath the waves. Hana looked down at the shallow pool that nearly submerged her. Reflected in the dark water, she saw her own face illuminated by the flaming debris around her. She looked cut, bruised, and uncharacteristically afraid. Hana shook her head, hoping the fear would somehow shake off like a spat of dirt. It didn't.

Then Hana got the most intense spike of adrenaline she had ever experienced in her short, nineteen-year life. Her ear first caught the sensation: the sound of rushing water against groaning metal, a sound she recognized. Her body rocked, and the earth shook with the slam of metal on the ground. Then there was bright light, and there was a screaming metal noise like something out of a Japanese monster film. DVa turned over, shielding her face from the blinding light. She could barely see it; the enshrouded figure of a colossal omnic towered over Hana's tiny frame.

DVa instinctively slapped her wrist, but there was no familiar click. She wasn't wearing her mech call device. Hana looked up in absolute shock. As terror filled her being, her face contorted unnaturally. The omnic screeched, and a steel serpent arm dove towards Hana. Metal plates grated against each other as the winding arm came at her like a train. Sharp appendages opened at the arm's tip to slice DVa apart. Hana only caught a glimpse of the shimmering blades as they zeroed in on her face.

DVa woke up completely soaked. Sweat trickled down her body, releasing a tingling chill on her boiling hot skin. She inhaled haphazardly, and before she could get a handle on what had just happened, she started crying. Her eyes burned as each drop escaped and rolled down her face, leaving a salty flavor on her puffy lips. She quickly buried her head in her arms for shame. Hana had no patience for this silliness. Despite her best efforts, the tears continued to flow. She shook her head. There was no reason to feel such anxiety over a meaningless dream, she reasoned. With a growl, she threw off her covers in frustration.

Hana leapt out of bed, hoping some late night activity would provide some respite. She stepped toward the dimly lit window of her New York hotel room. The gentle glow rising from the city streets was calming. The yellowish light only betrayed a hint of her pink underwear subtly complementing her pale skin. She was safe here, but her fight was far from finished. Once the last of her tears had fallen, Hana let out a groan of derision. She plopped down to sit cross-legged on the floor.

To her it seemed that all her critics' mistrust had been confirmed tonight. The pressure of protecting her homeland from such a large distance away was insurmountable. Time was draining fast, and Korea was running out of options. If the colossal omnic could knock out drone communications, surely it could find a way to overpower their piloted mechs. The solution was simple yet impossible. All DVa had to do was recruit the personnel necessary to launch an effective underwater assault that could end the colossal omnic for good. Despite that, DVa barely knew where to start. Genius engineers wouldn't just line up to help. The omnic problem wasn't isolated to Korea, and people had their own countries to worry about. DVa huffed and let her face rest against the window, and she remained in that position for what seemed like hours. This was one dilemma that her passionate personality couldn't solve. Then the phone rang.

At first, Hana was startled. Calls were a scarcity for her, especially at this time of night. She figured it was just a mistaken number, so she left it alone. After an eighth ring, the phone was silent. Hana sighed, but then the phone rang again… and again. Eventually she gave in, got off the floor, and grabbed the receiver.

She tapped the button.

"Hello, Miss Song," a modulated voice spoke.

"Who is this?" Hana asked in earnest.

"A concerned third party," replied the voice.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"What I'd want to know is why a bounty has been placed on a nineteen-year-old, Korean girl."

"What?" Hana cried.

"I'd start packing if I were you."


	2. The Metal Man

A long, agonizing tone resonated in Hana's ears. The wailing phone slipped to the floor while DVa attempted to make sense of the circumstance. Her mind was a flurry of irreconcilable ideas. Only moments ago Hana was lamenting her duty as a protector of Korea, and now she was forced to acknowledge a bounty on her life. She couldn't believe it; no one had cause to kill her. Hana cursed herself for retrieving the phone at all. She was accustomed to a plethora of bizarre mail from fans and foes alike. This situation was no different, or so she reasoned. The call was just a ridiculous prank, someone attempting to rustle her feather, and she only listened because of her shocking nightmare.

 _There is no need for me to do anything else tonight_ , Hana reassured herself, _I should just get some sleep_. She flew to action, adjusting the covers and aligning herself beneath them. She found a cozy position and closed her eyes. _No need to worry._

Then Hana heard the loud roaring of a gang of motorcycles without mufflers. Then she heard screaming and gunshots. As sweat wetted her already damp skin, DVa sprung to the window in the wake of the commotion. Her pallid face pressed against the glass, and she forced her eyes downward. Struggling to interpret the fleeting images, Hana could only see a hint of motion on the street. At this point Hana's mind had been completely overtaken by fear. Her breathing hastened; her steps were rushed; every part of Hana's being was flush with adrenaline. Later, Miss Song would only remember the cold, startling fear and her enkindled desire to escape. Finding herself in a t-shirt and shorts, Hana closed the door to her apartment behind her.

A harmonious elevator tone sent Hana sprawling into the nearby alcove. Realizing that she was in great peril, DVa allowed her fear to dissipate and began thinking of an escape plan. Her whole body was shaking with adrenaline, but she couldn't be idle any longer. She pressed against the wall and peered around the corner of the alcove.

The elevator opened, the cool metal of the doors kissing the warm garnishing of wood framing them. Several armed people in ski masks exited. Although their intentions were clearly unscrupulous, the men wore well maintained jackets. Fine brown and black leather sewn with metallic embroidery would have emanated prestige were it not for the repugnantly intense odor of tobacco and motor oil. The man in front held an ornate shotgun matching his vest in gaudy gilding. He gently wrapped his gloved hand over the pump and gave it a tug. The resulting noise sent DVa's heart racing faster than any k-pop superstar ever could muster.

"Stop doing that," one of the thugs said in a smooth but definitively southwestern accent.

The other turned around. "Why should I?" He had a similar accent, yet his voice was slightly gruffer. Again, he pumped the gun and a round ejected from the chamber.

"'Cause yer wastin' my ammo!" the first responded.

"C'mon," said the third, with a voice more robust than the others, "Let the big boy have some fun with 'is shotty. We've got a job; let's get it done."

The first grunted in response. "Fine."

The other spoke. "Which one's the girl in?"

"Should be…" the first looked down the hall, "the fourth on the right."

Hana nearly toppled over as she retreated from the corner. The men had nearly seen her, or so she thought. A moment passed before her breath caught up to her. She inhaled deep. If she could hide herself, she believed she could slip by the hunters undetected. There was an ice machine behind her, so Hana tucked herself behind it, having just enough room to squeeze between it and the wall. The sterile light from the hallway cut halfway across her face as Hana's lone eye observed the corridor. A few seconds passed before the hunters came into view.

A blast of air flushed through the building. The structure shook, and every loose nut or bolt in the complex rattled. The thugs looked at each other. DVa concluded that the men were unaware of the blast's cause. Suddenly, an intense light filled the hallway, leaving no corner in shadow. The hunters groaned in displeasure, shielding their faces. For a moment, Hana felt exposed as if in the light of day, but the light was gradually subdued, and she knew she was covered by darkness once more. As her eyes recuperated from the sensory overload, her ears caught a sound she had not noticed before: the hum of a jet engine. The thugs lowered their arms and turned their combined attention to the window at the hallway's end.

DVa heard glass shattering followed by a hearty thud. The noise from the jet engine also increased as soon as the glass had broken. The men in the hall assumed uneasy stances and gripped their weapons. There was a groaning of metal and then a highly oral voice spoke, "Hullo, gents. I did not expect to see you here so soon." His accent was quite foreign to Hana, Russian perhaps.

Metal clanked and thumped against the floor in rhythm. Every motion this new person made caused the whole floor to heave. The hunters seemed reluctant to speak, but the one at the rear, seeming the most mature, spoke nonetheless, "We were in the neighborhood."

A massive, hulking figured stepped into view. The mass of bulbous metal resembled a boulder more than a man, but Hana could see the man's eyes through a slit in the helm. There was a brief pause in the conversation as the two parties looked each other over. Hana's breath caught in her throat when she realized her imminent doom. Her lone eye was staring directly at the armored man, and he was staring right back. She trembled, feeling a bead of sweat trickle over her brow. Hana prayed that the other thugs would somehow take this hulk down before he revealed her location. She felt like she would collapse from the anxiety, but the man quickly looked back towards the other hunters.

The first hunter spoke, "I don't suppose you're gonna back off on this one?"

"Not a chance," said the metal man, "but I'm sure we can work something out." From what DVa could tell, the man had a stern look even with only his eyes visible.

There was another pause. The tension rose as flesh rubbed against gunmetal. These thugs weren't about to compromise, but they couldn't take down this metal man easily. A brief lull in the engine noise was all the excuse anyone need to act. The brash thug at the front spoke, "Ah, screw it."

 _BLAM!_

A flurry of sparks exploded as the shotgun tore into the mechanized armor. The thug stumbled back from the recoil briefly, but the metal giant took a far more serious hit. The massive metal frame collapsed to the floor with a crash, and for a moment the men couldn't believe it. As smoke rose from the armor, the man in the suit was silent, apparently dead or at least unconscious from the blast. The hunter at the front went to the other side of the man and slapped his helmet a few times. The gleaming metal clinked with each tap. "Hey! You okay in there?" asked the thug. There was no response. "Ha!" the thug laughed, "That was easier than I thought." DVa sighed as her whole being shook with jubilation.

"Alright. Let's get this done," said the other hunter.

"Hold on a sec," said the first.

DVa closed her eyes. All she had to do was run to the stairs when the goons went inside her room. Hana believed she had a real shot at surviving. She smiled as the tension eased away.

The thug pumped his shotgun. "Hello there," he said with a chuckle.

When DVa opened her eyes, she saw the barrel of a shotgun pointed directly into her face, smoke still rising from the tip. That familiar fear and anxiety returned and multiplied tenfold. Hana quaked with horror as the other thugs gathered around her. Tears struggled to escape, and DVa was quickly losing the point of resisting.

The third thug gave a dry laugh. Shaking his head he said, "C'mon. Grab her and let's go."

The first thug grumbled. "We should just end it here." His hand tightened on the barrel, and the mechanics of the gun whispered.

DVa looked up at the thug. She couldn't breathe. This could be the end.

 _PSTEW!_

Hana clamped her eyes shut as a snapping noise rumbled through her ears. Her body rocked with emotion.

 _PSTEW! PSTEW!_

Two more noises echoed in her head, each one as startling as the last.

 _THOP! PAP! THAP!_

Several noises followed, less pronounced than the first three but more robust. DVa opened her eyes slowly and saw the three men sprawled out on the floor. She inhaled haphazardly and began wailing and crying. Her fingers dug into her face while tears covered her body. Hana looked up again, checking to see that her assailants were truly gone. In the hallway, she saw the metal man still lying on the floor but with a silenced rifle in his hands. Hana wept and wailed and gasped.

The metal man clumsily got back to his feet. He briefly looked at the scar on his armor, but the small indentations were nothing serious. The metal man thundered over to DVa's hiding place. She looked at him, tears failing to obscure the blood that reddened her eyes. He sighed, not out of exasperation but of mutual fatigue. Shaking his head, he spoke to Hana, "Sorry, little gurl. Those men are…" The man paused to find the word. "…difficult to deal with."

Hana screamed in her hands. She could barely tell what was happening. Her breathing slowly steadied, but she was completely drained from the whole ordeal. She leaned back as a bit of moisture overflowed from her eyelids. Hana couldn't muster a reasonable response. She didn't want to be taken hostage, but she also felt an immediate gratitude to this man for saving her. DVa had no energy to do anything regardless. She gazed up at the man through a film of tears, saliva, and confusion.

The metal man returned her gaze for a moment, but their interaction was cut short by an abrupt buzz from the man's wrist. A yellow light emanated from a complex panel of systems within the man's suit. He checked his wrist and then returned to DVa. "Unfortunately, we're going to have to cut this short. More are on their way." The metal man turned around and took a few steps before looking back. DVa was huddled into a ball, unmoving and unemotional. "Do you want me to leave you here for more of those men to find you?"

Hana looked up. "No," she responded quietly.

"Then follow me," the metal man said with intensity.

Hana got off of the floor and reluctantly followed the man into the hall. It was quiet now; except for the metal man's suit, only a calming wind could be heard. Stepping over the thugs' dead bodies, DVa received a premonition that she was transitioning into a very dangerous life. Hana followed the man to the broken window, and both of them gazed out into the warming city lights.

The metal man peer over the edge of the building. He looked at Hana. "Grab onto me," he said, extending an arm.

DVa shivered and stepped away. "W-what?" she asked fearfully.

"I'm going to jump out the window. Now grab onto me."

DVa didn't respond; however, the man wasn't giving her a choice. He wrapped his arm around her, lifting her slightly off the ground. As the man stepped into the window, Hana felt dread creeping back through her system. The street could have been a lightyear away, and she still would not be more terrified than at this moment.

"Hold on," said the man.

DVa pressed against the metal suit as close as she could. A pneumatic hiss released from the armor just before the man jumped out. Hana closed her eyes as everything inside her tried to escape through her top. The sensation of plummeting alone was enough to take DVa's breath away, but she knew there was no hope of survival if she hit the ground.

Asphalt splintered as the metal man touched down with Hana safely preserved. As both of them observed their surroundings, they saw numerous motorcycles, but their owners were flung carelessly to the concrete. Clearly a brief firefight had ensued. DVa thought the authorities might have arrived, yet she was quickly disproven.

"Put the lady down," a dry yet robust voice said. DVa thought the accent sounded very similar to the other thugs she had encountered upstairs.

The metal man and Hana, who was still held tightly in his arms, both turned to the voice. A gruff looking man sporting an ornamented cowboy hat and smoking a cigar stood before them wielding an understated revolver. The metal man relaxed a little allowing Hana to touch the ground but still maintaining a steady grip.

The cowboy spoke again, making no movement. "I'm givin' you one chance to hand her over." The man's hat enshrouded almost all of his face.

The metal man's mouth was a little dry. "I killed a few of your old wrangler pals up there," he said motioning to the window high above them, "I'd prefer not to kill any more endangered species today."

The cowboy chuckled. "Weren't my friends, but I'll kill you all the same."

The metal man was visibly uncomfortable, but he showed no sign of easing the conflict. "You know you're only going to get one shot."

The cowboy lifted his head, the gentle street lights glinting in his eyes. "Only need one."

DVa felt the metal fingers of her captor dig into her arm. Whoever was threatening him clearly had the metal man uneasy. While the cowboy and the metal man stared at each other, Hana felt the air around them distance itself as it was replaced by solid, steeling tension. She was sure the metal man was sweating inside his suit, yet the cowboy was completely content.

 _BLAM!_

DVa heard one shot, making her jump a little. She looked around to see who had received the shot, but the metal man next to her was completely unscathed. Hana looked back to the cowboy. The bullet had clearly come from the cowboy's smoking revolver, yet she couldn't see where the bullet had gone. She looked at the cowboy again, who was equally intrigued. Slowly, DVa caught sight of a tiny black splotch floating in mid-air. As she looked closer, Hana realized the splotch was tiny cracks protruding from a bullet hole. She looked to the metal man, who chuckled.

Gradually time and space seemed to give way as color and metal manifested before their eyes. Energy crackled as black steel appeared out of thin air from nothingness. A flying jet craft had been hovering between the two men while maintaining an invisibility field, and it had intercepted the bullet. The metal man shoved DVa forward onto the awaiting on-ramp. The engines flared and Hana recognized the intense humming from earlier. The metal man stepped into his jet also and shouted, "Goodbye, McCree! I'm sure we'll be meeting again soon!" Then the ramp door closed and Hana was enveloped in darkness.

Back on the ground, McCree chuckled to himself as the jet blasted out of sight.

"McCree? Report!" he heard over the coms.

"They got away," McCree responded, "Might be time to let your _friend_ in the military know about this."

There was a thoughtful moan. "Understood. Return to the rendezvous. Athena will be waiting to pick you up."

McCree released a big puff of smoke. "Will do, par'dner."


	3. A Strange Nightmare

Flashes of images and sounds bled through DVa's senses. _Settle in, we have some time. A metal noise paired with howling winds. Please help me in welcoming… Hana Song!_ She could see everything in her mind, yet each memory brought before her was more frightening than the last. _Applause. Giant waves crashing against a beach. Gun shells hitting the floor, clacking as they go down. Laughing._ She tried to ignore them, but these instances were within herself. She tried to focus on better memories, yet the vile thoughts protruded further into reality. _Follow me. A metallic roar. The crowd cheering. Gunshots. Bullets puncturing flesh. A blast of air. Only need one. Water against metal. Steel jaws crushing bone. Falling. Laughing._ The images came more rapidly and the sounds grew louder than before. _A piercing beam of light. Flesh ripping apart. Staring eyes. Smoke rising. Blood pooling. A war hero. Shaking in horror. Screams. End it here. Icy steel skewering a body._

DVa gasped, breathing in cold, filtered air. Immediately, she knew there were chemicals embittering the atmosphere surrounding her. Unfamiliar, pneumatic hisses and bizarre patterns of light scorned her anxiety. She couldn't remember when or why she had fallen asleep. A groan of weariness escaped her lips. Hana needed rest, but fear and self-loathing still possessed her body. Shadows and corruptions of events that were and were to be passed through her mind like dust in the wind. Circumstances beyond her control threatened to destroy her life if not end it altogether. At the peak of her power, she could scarcely handle such pandemonium, but Hana's strength was rapidly dwindling.

Hana leaned against the metal wall that had been her makeshift bed. She felt ill; though waves of chilling cold pulsed through her body, she could sense heat and sweat on the surface of her skin. Her eyes struggled to receive light as Hana examined her prison. The heightened technology and lack of constraining equipment told her she was still on the metal man's jet. Still, knowing her location offered no comfort.

Then a melancholy voice broke her thoughts. "Good morning, Miss Song." The tritely words were uncannily comforting. "I trust that being kidnapped has not eroded your sense of self yet."

"What?" Hana whimpered, "Who is…"

"Do not be alarmed, Miss Song. I am not a figment of your tortured mind. I am merely an A.I. responsible for maintaining the ship of our mutual acquaintance. If you require further personification, you may call me your pal." Every syllable from the machine was startlingly similar to the last, evening the tone of every word until they nearly formed a harmonious, synthetic song.

Dryly, DVa laughed. "If you want to be my pal, you'll have to start by releasing me."

The A.I replied, "That is exactly why I have woken you, Hana Song."

Hana raised her head and looked around like she was questioning someone's poor humor. "What?"

"I intend to release you from this ship," the A.I. continued, "so that you may retrieve our mutual acquaintance. He has been gone for too long."

Hana couldn't quite believe what she was hearing, but she decided to play along. "Okay," she simply responded. Getting to her feet, Hana looked at the many illuminated screens around the cockpit almost expecting to find a face for this unusually friendly machine.

There was a pause followed by some beeps and whirs. The computer was processing her, and Hana didn't like that. "You seem an intelligent lady, Miss Song, so I will try to save you some time. We are currently located at a secret criminal hideout. There is no escape. Even if you made the 35 meter drop to the valley floor, you would die of dehydration long before crawling to the nearest town. Given the sizable bounties currently on your head, I would also refrain from engaging the local entities for assistance. They are unlikely to treat you so respectfully."

"What do you want from me?" Hana interjected.

"Just as I've said, Miss Song." The A.I. repeated, "I need you to retrieve our mutual acquaintance."

"That…" Hana started, "Seems like your problem."

"I have made it your problem," it replied, "If our friend does not return, you will not be leaving this mesa."

Hana flinched at the A.I.'s threat. "W-why do you need me? He seems fully capable of _retrieving_ himself."

"Yes, but he is also an honor bound fool. He believes he can negotiate with the syndicate we are dealing with. He cannot, but I have a contingency plan."

DVa shook her head in dismay. "How can you expect me to do anything for you? I'm tired and hungry…"

"If it is energy you require, I can provide you with an adrenaline shot," replied the A.I.

DVa sighed. "Just tell me what to do," she said, relinquishing all resistance.

"Security at this hideout is particularly lax, given its inaccessible location. I will give you a disguise so that you can pass for a bounty hunter. Few of the patrons here are eager to analyze every random thug who enters. You should be able to walk right through the front doors; there are no regulations regarding what arms you may carry. Once inside, you'll need to get access to the basement. That is where I last traced our mutual acquaintance before his signal was disrupted. Avoiding the usual chaos of the establishment, you will speak to the bartender. Tell him you're looking for Serro. He should direct you to the basement without trouble. After you reach the lower level, the difficulty begins."

"That's when it gets difficult!" Hana shouted in exasperation. The A.I. paused, allowing DVa a moment to process her thoughts. Shaking her head in frustration she said, "Go on."

"Guards may ask why you have entered their facility, and telling them that you're looking for Serro may not fool them. You'll need to subdue them if they get in your way. You must make it to the conference room where our friend is negotiating. I will give you weapons to accommodate this. Once you find our friend, you will deploy a neuro toxin grenade. The helmet I will give you negates the effects of the toxin. Every human who inhales the toxin will be briefly paralyzed. You and our friend should then be able to eliminate any omnic or robotic sentries and make your escape."

Hana sighed as she rubbed her face. "You're asking a lot of your prisoner," she responded.

"My prisoner?" the A.I. questioned, "How long have you been having nightmares?"

DVa jumped as her brain processed the words of the machine. _Had she been talking in her sleep? How did this machine know her?_ Abruptly, their entire conversation had been retroactively tainted. The cool, soothing words of this A.I. now donned a sinister, manipulative meaning.

Ignorant of her thoughts on the matter, the A.I. continued, "Here is your equipment." A drawer opened behind DVa with a pneumatic hiss. Inside a cylindrical helmet with a rounded top and a thin black visor was waiting. Though its top had a dark blue-grey hue, color seeped down the edge into a gleaming crimson at the fringe. Along with the helm, there was a blaster weapon of foreign make to DVa, a high powered taser, and a grenade. DVa removed the helmet from the drawer to examine it. The dark visor showed a tortured girl covered in a mess of hair, sweat, and saliva residue. She winced upon seeing the broken visage and set the helmet aside. Next, she removed the blaster pistol. The gun's shining metal was so bright and clean she could have mistaken it for polished silver.

"That pistol is a single-shot impulse cannon. Do you see the hammer on the back?" asked the machine. Hana nodded. "When you pull that piece, the chamber will energize and glow bright blue. That indicates a shot ready to be fired. It's an understated weapon, but I'm sure you will find that it can speak for itself."

Underneath the armaments, DVa found a combat uniform styled to the look of the helmet with bright crimson and orange in abundance. The well-made and uniquely stylized uniform seemed too extravagant to be conveniently lying around. She asked, "Where did you get this outfit?"

"It was a de facto Russian commando uniform," replied the A.I. "…before our friend shot the commando wearing it in her heart. We've since modified the colors." DVa moved her hands through the fabric until her fingers caught in a hole piercing the upper torso. Under the original fabric, ballistic weave and metal constituted a makeshift patch.

"You're giving me a uniform someone died in!?" Hana exclaimed.

"Would you rather take a bullet in your t-shirt?" the A.I. asked. Hana reluctantly looked over the uniform, imagining a person's dying body contained inside. "Quickly, get changed. You do not have much time."

Irritated by the drone's blunt request and angered by her current situation, DVa huffed as she grabbed her garments and stepped into the adjacent lavatory. She shut the chamber door, and a dim light flickered overhead. Once Hana was certain the A.I. had no more to say, she allowed the uniform to slip through her fingers onto the floor. Primarily hopelessness overwhelmed her. She had no escape and little hope of rescue, yet she felt indebted to her captors. DVa's brisk encounter with death had been exchanged for an elongated imprisonment. She considered if the trade was worthwhile. Unease defined her circumstance, but Hana didn't have enough information to judge the quality of her situation.

One glance at the mirror sent all thoughts of her captivity to the wind. The normally pristine and picturesque, doll-faced DVa had been transformed into an unkempt wreck of hair and oil and tears. Aside from her own self-loathing, there was no way she could operate effectively with such a messy, disheveled body. She immediately began removing her shirt and shorts to allow her skin to breathe. Cold air circulated throughout the ship, so as soon as her shirt was off, the heat wafted from her body. Hana shivered, and her skin tingled with goosebumps. Feeling this sudden sensation of hot and cold would normally have prompted DVa to straddle a couch for the majority of her day surrounded by fruity drinks, ibuprofen, and with a trashy, American movie playing on the TV. However, Hana did not have that luxury today. Today, she had to fight for her life; she had to become the soldier she was esteemed to be. Her homeland was counting on her. If she failed now, her efforts would do them no good.

Feeling that determination rise within herself, Hana wiped her face and slicked her hair back. She could not be concerned with minor details of appearance now. She could not operate on emotions. Her duty came first, and the path forward was clear. Hana took up the uniform and began donning its many layers. After the last buckle had been firmly clasped, she appeared professional despite her dire circumstance. Reviewing herself, Hana thought her family would have been proud to see her acting with such poise and devotion. She looked again at the obtuse helmet that had startled her earlier. Even though this equipment was unfamiliar to her, she would make it her tool for the benefit of her people.

Hana slid the helmet on easily. Blue lights darted through her sight. Statistics and condition settings she could not comprehend blurred Hana's vision. She hoped she would not have to use these confusing data points today; completing this one task was enough pressure for now.

Dva hefted her pistol into its holster. As she caressed the gun's sleek metal, Hana thought she might be able to escape using it. She could destroy the computer or hijack another vehicle. Of course, she realized that hacking a flying transport was beyond her skill set, and if the other criminals at this facility were as cutthroat as the machine had implied, perhaps she was better off not tempting fate. She shook the idea away and exited the lavatory.

Her boots collided lightly with the plated flooring of the jet. Suddenly Hana felt a burst of air breeze through her suit. Bright, sterile light bounced through the chamber. The main ramp and door opened, and the outside was surprisingly brighter than the innards of the ship.

Again the A.I. spoke, "With every action, your chances of success have consistently increased. I am impressed. Good luck, Miss Song."

Hana looked across the foreboding yard. Though she had only been inside the jet for a night, its interior felt homely in comparison to the lonely, congested atmosphere without. She turned back to the jet's mainframe. "What if…" Hana was startled as her voice came out in modulated, buzzing tones. She sounded nothing like a young, Korean lady. "What if I need help?"

The inside of the cockpit slowly dimmed, and the displays went completely dark. DVa's eyes widened as she realized the computer's intentions. There was no response; certainly none was necessary from the machine's perspective. She had a mission to do, and anything else would slow her down. The machinations of an A.I. mattered nothing to the spirit of a reckless youth regardless. Hana knew the truth, but resentment and dejection built within her nonetheless.

Shaking off those negative emotions, Hana used that rejection to detach herself from the safety of the jet. She pushed outward from the metal husk and into the white lights surrounding the landing site. As she shielded her eyes from the bright lights, she noted several dozen ships and transports strewn around the complex. The lot was a mismatch of concrete patches and red dust surrounded by barbed fences and bizarre defensive emplacements. At the opposing end of the mesa, there was a rundown building covered in contrasting metal plates and make-shift adverts. Hana was surprised there wasn't a large neon sign promoting the establishment. Overall, the complex had the air of a roadside motor house rather than a secret criminal hideaway.

Hana sighed. She was alone it seemed, and she had a good distance to walk. Acutely aware of her fear, she allowed her legs to carry her forward. Her isolation became more apparent with every echoing step of her boots. No matter how many charming faces lurked inside, Hana could rely on no one but herself.

As Hana approached the single, illuminated door at the front of the building, she could smell the pungent odor of smoke and a lack of hygienic. Laughter and cheering betrayed the high number of patrons waiting inside. She passed between two smaller, hovering vehicles, and saw a lone sentry bot huddled on the ground next to the door. The lanky, robotic figure remained motionless until DVa came within a few yards. Suddenly, it got to its feet, standing nearly a foot taller than Hana. A single red eye shone from the left half of its face, immediately probing DVa's location. She attempted to ignore the unsettling robot and walked towards the door. Quickly the bot stepped into her path. Now fully revealed in the small light from the doorway, DVa saw the robot was equally as rugged and unmaintained as the building itself.

She tried to step around the sentry, saying, "Excuse me." The modulated voice still uneased her. However, the robot was not deterred; it swiveled in her way again. Taken aback by the sentry's disruptive acts, Hana tried a different approach. "I'm here to see Serro," she said. The robot was unflinching. Hana stepped left and the sentry would follow. If she stepped right the same would occur. Finally, the pressure broke Hana's composure. She didn't have time for games or minor inconveniences; she had a mission to complete. With a single motion, Hana shunted the bot out of her way and stepped to the door. The sentry promptly responded with a quiet alarm emanating from within its body.

A slit in the door opened, and a gruff voice asked, "Ey, what's goin' on out there?"

Hana knew she had to put on a confident façade or risk being exposed. "Your sentry got in my way," she said. The buzzing voice seemed to unsettle the doorman as much as it unsettled Hana.

"S-sorry," said the man, "He's been acting up since he got in a fight last week; lost his eye." He sounded apologetic and slightly intimidated. The sentry, however, was not dissuaded by DVa's performance. The bot shoved Hana aside and groaned angrily at the doorman. The man had clearly come to dislike the sentry's inharmonious tones. "Gaaah! Get out of here you damn bot! Take your eye and get out of here!" The yelling man threw a metal trinket through the slit and slammed the hole shut.

The tiny canister dinged against the bot's metal frame. It followed the part as it bounced to the ground, scrambling to grab the precious component. The robot fell to its knees and took the eye in its hands. Hana could see a light reddish hue reflected in the dim eyepiece. The robot curled up against the wall once more, completely devoid of awareness. While the bot sat there staring at its severed component, Hana realized her own fear in the helpless sentry.

Not entirely aware of her own actions, Hana approached the sentry bot. With its lone eye fixated entirely upon its vestige, the sentry paid no attention to Hana's movements. Slowly, she wrapped her fingers around the robot's eye. She was compelled to restore this mechanical dreg and impart a portion of her own will to the entity. As she plucked the oblong object from the robot's hand, the sentry remained lifeless. A rush of pity at that moment nearly overcame Hana's composure, but she maintained hope. The eye caught the light of the doorway and gleamed, showing its yearning desire in emblazoned scarlet. DVa searched the robot's visage for a slot for the eye, but first she noticed some damage she had not seen earlier. The robot had numerous indentations and pores around its head apparatus perhaps from patrons or combat. The sentry may have been permanently damaged, yet DVa proceeded with her kind gesture all the same. She carefully lifted the eye to its socket and gently plugged the hole. There was a quiet click, but the robot did not respond.

Hana rose to her feet, having played out her wistful desire. The sentry made no motions of thanks or joy; it remained dead and hopeless, but it no longer stood in DVa's way. Whether she had assisted the sentry or not, Hana accepted its lack of interference and continued with her plan. She laid a hand on the metal door and pushed through.

The inside of the building was a grating contrast to the quiet lot. A horrifying chorus of rough and loud voices penetrated the ears in a manner that ought to be considered illegal, and the smell of alcohol and intolerable levels of smoke rendered the air nauseating to anyone unaccustomed the environment. Luckily, Hana's helmet kept the stench somewhat at bay, but she found it revolting nonetheless.

As Hana looked around the room, she felt like she was in an epic western. Tables covered in cards and beer filled the entire room, and criminals of all varieties jeered together. Refined and unrefined men sat side by side squabbling over trite piles of trinkets and money. Despite the unprejudiced diversity, Hana observed an establishment on the brink of implosion. A loose cannon could ignite a conflict at any moment, and these men appeared well equipped to fuel a fight. Some thugs wore their arms openly while more discrete businessmen quietly observed their surroundings with deadly intent.

DVa did not have time to focus on the overbearing crowds for long. Her mind was awash with anxiety, but she wanted to proceed with escaping this place. A constantly encroached pathway led between the jostling bodies to the bar at the far end of the room. Though Hana was uncomfortable having so many sleazy thugs surrounding her, she pushed through the sludge of people. She just had to remember the name Serro then she could rely on her combat abilities to escape.

Suddenly, a warm, greasy hand emerged from the crowds and took hold of Hana's arm. DVa spun around, intimidated but ready to fight. A sloppy thug in an overcoat who could barely remained seated glanced carelessly at her figure. A gruff and lazy voice resounded from the man's mouth, "Ey, girl," he said although his lips could barely carry the words, "Come over here." The man tugged on Hana's arm, and she wholeheartedly resisted.

To Hana's fortune, another entity seated next to the man soon intervened. An omnic wearing a clean vest spoke harshly to the thug. "Hey!" the omnic shouted, "What do you think you're doing?" The bot quickly got into the man's personal space, speaking with an authority that demanded attention.

"I-I'm just t-talkin' to a girl," the man slurred.

"You still owe me money!" the omnic said, slapping a metal hand on the table, "There's no way I'm letting you get away without paying your due!"

The man put up his hands in defense, releasing his grip on Hana. "I-I was j-just…"

The omnic growled and locked the man's head in his arms. "Listen! You're not doing anything until I've squeezed every last ounce of my money out of you! Otherwise you'll pay for it in a different way!"

The drunk man choked. "A-alright!" he squealed.

Hana rubbed her arm and returned to her path before any more incidents could occur, leaving the two men to fight amongst themselves. The bartender stood in vigilant watch over his patrons like a hawk awaiting a sign of movement. He seemingly paid no attention to the glass he was vigorously cleaning with a rag, but as DVa approached, his eyes fell upon her.

Hana waited until she was completely free of the crowds and standing at the bar before she spoke. "I'm here for Serro," she said, her buzzing voice getting the point across without revealing any emotion. The bartender nodded to a door at the end of the bar. Hana nodded in return. She now realized the meaning of what the A.I. had said earlier. Thus far, Hana had experienced no major challenges. Only her anxiety stood in her way. Beyond this point her life was at stake.

Hana opened the rickety, wooden door and descended a flight of stairs. The clamorous activity above was quickly stifled as she arrived at another door at the bottom. This door was metal and looked heavier than most of the men she had seen in the establishment. DVa grunted as she laboriously forced the door open. On the other side, two guards with glowing red masks and holding automatic weapons glanced curiously at her. The metal door snapped shut behind her, and now the room was completely silent save for the sound of a generator or AC unit.

For a moment Hana fumbled uncertainly through her thoughts not knowing how to respond to these imposing sentinels. A short exhale preceded her words, "I'm here to see Serro." The guardsmen looked at each other.

DVa nervously scanned the two men for answers. They were silent and near motionless. At any moment they could rip her to shreds with a hail of bullets or bind her in cuffs or seal the exits or call for reinforcements or stab her or punch her or electrocute her. In two seconds Hana had concluded that the chances of these men assisting her were nonexistent. The two men looked back at Hana, and inside her helmet she was cringing from the stress. Before either of them could speak a word, Hana yanked her pistol from her belt and fired into the soldier on the right. A blazing blue hole was left where the soldier had been shot. He toppled back, smoke rising from the gun and the body. Immediately, Hana slapped her hand on the top of the weapon and loaded another shot into the pistol. Confused and amazed, the other soldier took the shot as cleanly as the first.

Two dead bodies laid at DVa's feet. Fortunately the pistol wasn't deafening, so the noise could be mistaken for dropping a metal object, but Hana was near paralyzed. She had never killed a human before. Hana was relieved by her capabilities and aghast at her lack of self-control. These guards had yet to threaten her, yet she had murdered them in an instant. She was simply protecting herself; everything she did was justified. Nevertheless, Hana couldn't shake the feeling that she had crossed a line here today, and she would not soon forget that.

As she glanced away from the bodies, Hana felt a cold drop of sweat trickle down her face. She felt light headed, and her breathing had increased. A sour taste filled her mouth and nostrils overwhelming every other lingering aroma. Her body shook as an illness took root within her. Hana stumbled along the hallway, forcing herself to continue her mission.

Dank cement corridors spread out in every direction, but Hana was unable to comprehend that information. She clumsily scraped across the wall relying on the conference room being somewhere ahead. Her mind was entirely diluted, yet she fingered the grenade on her belt like an ace pitcher.

She came to a door at some point in her wandering, yet the halls remained silent as a tomb. One slam of her fist into the control panel and the metal frame slid past. Stepping inside, Hana leaned against the wall in exhaustion. Distrusting eyes coursed over her as she entered. Numerous soldiers clad in black armor with red visors scanned her curiously, and a finely dressed man at the back stared in disbelief. The metal man stood near the door with two soldiers standing dubiously over him.

The refined man hesitantly spoke, "I-is this…"

DVa pulled the pin on her grenade. She whispered, "Good game," as the canister fell to the floor. The metal man immediately sealed his helmet.

A bluish mist pooled on the floor, and the dressed man shouted, "Kill them!" Hana fell back through the doorway and hit the panel again. Bullets dented the metal as Hana slipped aside. She heard the men coughing and shouting, and she heard guns firing. A sudden pain hit her in the gut while she sat there. Clutching herself, she looked down fearing the worst. Nothing, it was just nausea.

DVa let her head rest on the wall as she collapsed to the floor. She had done it; the most difficult part of the mission was complete. Now she just had to escape with the metal man and get out of here. Hana released a satisfied breath. Gradually, her anxiety gave way to a rising joy. Next, she could leave this place with a shred of hope, but first she needed some rest.


End file.
